Austenland doesn't belong to me
Sketches and Musings
Jane Hayes sat in the beautiful grounds and sighed happily. This was perfect; and more so since her Copper package guaranteed that she had some time alone, when the others had their private lessons learning whist or whatever.
She could have joined Martin and helped him with some errands but somehow she was content to sit by herself. She picked up her sketch book and began to draw.
Unbidden, her thoughts turned to Mr. Nobley. She couldn't make him out; he was rude and stand-offish yet he had come back for her when he had been stuck in the woods without a horse; he was hoity-toity, trying to warn her against hanging out with Martin, and then acting like he really cared about her. Henry Nobley was a mystery.
She really couldn't make him out.
Jane stopped sketching and looked around her again. What did it matter if she couldn't make out Mr. Nobley, it wasn't as if she was interested in him.
000
Henry Nobley stared at Jane, Miss Erstwhile. When his aunt had asked him to fill in at Austenland as the resident gentleman, his immediate answer had been 'no way'. But his aunt had worn him down and now looking at Jane Henry was happy he had agreed.
They had yet to agree about anything and she obviously didn't like him but for the first time since Vivian had cheated on him, Henry found himself attracted to a woman.
She was pretty and outspoken and …surprising.
He saw Jane looking around and he pretended to read the book he had in his hands.
The Colonel came in with Mrs. Wattlesbrook, apparently his aunt had written a play and what was worse they were expected to act it out. He couldn't think of a worse form of entertainment but his objections were quickly brushed aside.
He listened in mortification as George East suggested the women pick their lovers. Henry began to pray and even as he did so he wasn't sure what he was praying for. He wasn't sure if he wanted Jane to pick him or not.
He heard Elizabeth pick Andrews and waited for Jane's pick.
Thank God, she had chosen him.
000
Jane stared at Mr. Nobley.
She made him nervous. She wanted to ask him why, why did she make him nervous? He was the most self-assured man she had ever met and he was tall, attractive and well-spoken, and he was the resident Mr. Darcy and he played his part very well. Why did she make him nervous?
000
"You make me nervous."
Henry couldn't believe he had admitted as much to Jane. It was a testament to how much she affected him that he had said those words out loud. He tried to make small talk.
He flipped through her sketch-book and was surprised by the number of sketches of himself that he saw. It seemed that every other page of her book had a picture of him. He couldn't help himself, "it is curious that there more of than anyone else," he told her.
It turned out she was having a hard time figuring him out. Did that really mean anything? He wondered.
"So I'm your fantasy?" he asked her.
"You play your character very well," she replied. Oh, she thought he was playing a character.
He wanted to tell her there and then that she was his fantasy; that she was everything she'd ever wanted and more but instead he heard himself say curtly, "shall we rehearse then," and opened his script.
'Coward,' he told himself, 'just tell her.'
000
"I love you," he had told her.
It was just playacting, not real, but Henry had never been more sincere in his life. In that moment when he had said the words Henry had been telling the truth. It was incredible, too soon, but he loved her.
He ran through the house with Jane to her room.
"I had so much fun tonight," she said.
"Me too," he replied. He had had more fun that day than he'd had in months. He opened her door; he needed to leave, needed to compose himself before his feelings overcame him.
As he stood outside her door he took a deep breath and decided to take the bull by the horns. It was now or never, and the worst she could do was say no.
"Miss Erstwhile," he called to her.
"Yes, Mr. Nobley?"
"Tomorrow evening," he said hesitantly, "can I reserve the first two dances with you?"
"Yes, Mr. Nobley."
He paused deliberated with himself and asked, "Miss Erstwhile would you let me back in a moment?"
He walked in and took her hands in his, he would be brave, "when I look at you I feel certain of something," he wanted to kiss her lips but contented himself with kissing her palm. Soon… tomorrow he would tell her.
For the first time in his life Henry Nobley was looking forward to dancing.
000
What say you?